


Landmark agnosia

by mm8



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holidays, M/M, american!bilbo, and by they I mean thorin and bilbo, scottish!thorin, they are eye-banging each other, thorin is a good big brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2742392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since his brother didn't get to do his holiday shopping before he went to the hospital, Thorin is being a good brother and doing it all for him on Christmas Eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Landmark agnosia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



Princes Street was packed with holiday shoppers and tourists stopping dead in the middle of the pavement getting in everyone's way, trying to get a good shot with their mobile. It pissed him off. Thorin was practically on a goodwill mission, shopping on Christmas Eve. His brother was in the hospital (it's just the flu, Frerin!) and his sister had tasked him to buy all of the remaining gifts their fallen brother hadn't had a chance to buy yet.

Normally, Thorin bought all of his Christmas presents at least two months in advance on amazon, so he would have as little human interaction as possible. Frerin, however, had left the majority of his shopping undone since he had been feeling unwell for the past month. Yes, influenza type a would do that to you.

Apparently, it had to be him who bought everything since Dis was busy being working single mother of two toddlers, and because he worked from home as a eCommerce consultant, Dis assumed he had a lot of spare time on his hands. 

Once Frerin was better, Thorin was going to kill him. Everything on his brother's list could only be bought from the little tiny shops on Princes Street this late in the season. Amazon couldn't guarantee deliver by tomorrow unless he wanted to shell out a million pounds in shipping costs. It had taken the him forever to find all of the shops and right gifts. He had been up and down Princes Street all day. 

The Scotsman growled as he pushed his way through the throng. He hated shopping. He hated people. He hated--

A damn tourist standing in the middle of the pavement staring intently down at his mobile sent Thorin crashing to the concrete, his packages went flying.

"Oh God," the tourist exclaimed, quickly scooping up his packages before they were trampled on by the crowd. He sounded American. What kind of American, Thorin wasn't sure. They all were the same to his ear. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you coming! I'm _lost_ and I've never been here before. I'm supposed to meet my cousin in a few hours for supper and I thought I'd do a bit of exploring, but I've gotten all turned about."

The Scotsman was about to curse him out, no matter how frazzled the tourist sounded. But then he saw his face. The American had gentle eyes, honey curls and even though he was probably five years younger than Thorin, there were deep lines that creased his forehead. There was something about him that drew Thorin in. It was frightening, but oh so exciting.

"You said you were lost?" he mumbled as he took his gifts from the man and stood up to his full height. Thorin noticed that the American was a head shorter than him. 

"Um, yes," the tourist rubbed his hands together. "I'm trying to get to the castle."

The Scotsman blinked. He wasn't the best at directions, but-- He pointed with his fingers at the horizon. "It's right there at the top of the hill. Can't miss it."

"Yes, well I started at the Royal Mile where my hostel is and somehow ended up here. And this is--"

"A bit overwhelming?" Thorin guessed.

"Yes!" The man looked slightly more relaxed already. He eyed Thorin's body; his pink tongue peeked out briefly. "Bilbo Baggins," he said, extending his hand.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he replied, taking Bilbo's hand with a firm grip.

"Oh my, should we continue this while walking? It appears that we're blocking the sidewalk."

Thorin nodded dumbly. He hadn't even noticed. "Say, I wouldn't want to intrude, but would you mind if I joined you at the castle?" _Go bold or go home, Oakenshield_ , he thought.

Bilbo stumbled over his own feet and gaped at the him. "What about your stuff? What would you do with it? And you're Scottish, aren't you? You must have been there at least a hundred times."

He had. School trips, outings with his grandfather, he'd even had an internship one summer doing date entry. "I drove here. So I can leave everything in my car," he waved off. Thorin stared darkly at his new friend. "Besides, I have never been to the castle with Bilbo Baggins."

He was pleased to see a faint blush on the American's cheeks. Bilbo gave him an encouraging smile. "Lead the way, Mr. Oakenshield."

 _Well_ , Thorin pondered, as he linked arms with Bilbo and took them down Ramsay Lane, _if he got them lost, it would be more time spent in Mr. Baggins' company_.


End file.
